


tell me what you want to hear

by shirozora



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: I'm in Dragon Age hell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3367898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirozora/pseuds/shirozora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You never meant to say it, did you?” Maxwell asks.</p><p>“If I say it out loud, it becomes real. But if nobody else hears it, then I can keep it to myself. Simple as that.”</p><p>“But I heard you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me what you want to hear

**Author's Note:**

> Write nice short things, I said.

“I need a drink,” Maxwell announces in the courtyard.

“I like the sound of that,” Varric says. “Nothing like a rampaging giant to make you want to crawl inside a bottle and never come out.”

“Wish I was there to fight one,” the Iron Bull says wistfully. “See you at the tavern, Boss?”

“Sounds good,” he says with a tired smile.

The party disperses, soldiers heading to Cullen’s office and the quartermaster with reports while his companions go to their quarters to unwind. Maxwell watches them leave, eyes lingering on Dorian and Vivienne conversing and discretely pointing at Solas while going up the stairs to the Great Hall, and then turns to the tavern.

A handful of people are already drinking the day away and sloppily salute him with “Inquisitor” and “Your Worship” when he walks in. He nods to them while searching for and finding Bull’s lieutenant, who’s sitting in his chosen corner of the building, drinking out of a bottle and looking rather cross. It probably had something to do with Bull telling him and the other Chargers to stay back when they headed out to Emprise du Lion two weeks ago.

“Krem,” he says.

Krem jerks and quickly stands up with a salute. “Inquisitor. I didn’t know you returned.”

“Word will get around soon enough.” He glances around the floor but doesn’t see Bull, Sera, or Cole. He still has a few minutes. “I need to ask you something, in private.”

Krem raises an eyebrow. “If you insist, Your Worship.”

“It’ll only be a moment.” Maxwell steps in close, keeping a leery eye out for unwanted intrusions. “I… overheard something. A Tevene word, I think. I was hoping you could tell me what it means.”

Krem’s eyebrow all but reaches his hairline. “Last I checked, there’s an altus here who knows as much Tevene as I do.”

“I can’t,” he says a little too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know if I should.”

Now Krem’s eyes narrow and he feels his face flush hot under the scrutiny. Instead of prying for more answers, Krem says, “What did you hear?”

“I don’t know if I’m pronouncing it right, or if I heard it at all,” he begins. 

He still thinks he imagined it; he tends to imagine things when slowly waking up after a rather brutal thrashing. Their first encounter with a red lyrium-infected giant at Suledin Keep was an ugly one and he got taken out of the fight when the giant threw a boulder at him. He slowly came to with Dorian crouched over him, slinging barriers at Cassandra and Varric who were keeping the giant at bay. He thought he heard Dorian say something but the giant roared and Cassandra shouted back while the altus threw a sizzling bolt of lightning at the creature and the word was mostly lost to the chaos. 

Maxwell spent half of the journey back to Skyhold mulling over the word, rebuilding it from hazy memory. He thought about asking Dorian but wasn’t sure if he even heard it. It’s quite possible that he just made up the word and it doesn’t mean anything at all.

“Is ‘amatus’ a Tevene word?”

Krem stares at him for a long moment, before shaking his head and sitting down with a low chuckle. He takes a swig from the bottle and says, “It’s a Tevene word, all right. It’s a… term you use, for someone you care about.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t imagining things, then. And Dorian… well.

“I don’t do it justice,” Krem adds. “I’m better with a sword than with words, to be honest. You should just ask him, Your Worship. I’m sure he can explain it _much_ better.”

“Yes, I imagine he would,” Maxwell says, and just manages to stop from burying his burning face in his hands while Krem chokes on his drink and starts wheezing with laughter. “This didn’t happen.”

“Whatever you say, Your Worship,” Krem says hoarsely. He suddenly straightens his back and salutes while clearing his throat. “Welcome back, Chief.”

“Good to be back. Don’t go to Emprise du Lion; you’ll freeze your ass off in half a day,” Bull says behind Maxwell. “Boss. Didn’t expect you to start drinking before I got here.”

“Uh, haven’t. Started drinking yet. I should - let me change out of this first,” he says, gesturing at his battered armor. “I’ll see you within the hour. Thanks, Krem.”

He quickly walks away but overhears Bull ask, “What was that about?”

“Beats me, Chief.”

* * *

He intended to wait until he heard Dorian say it again. 

Dorian never seems bothered by the people milling about in the library but whenever they head out, he becomes distant and discreet, almost as though he’s afraid of others watching. Maxwell can’t blame him after what he learned of Tevinter, after what happened at Redcliffe’s tavern, and so he stays content with the quick kisses and light, easy touches. He decides to wait for Dorian to tell him what the word means.

Instead, he asks while being kissed against a rather sturdy bookcase. The journey to Crestwood in search of Garrett Hawke’s Warden contact and to answer the villagers’ cries for help left him shaken and moody, and apparently this was Dorian’s idea of a distraction.

“I - I have a question-”

“Do you?” Dorian purrs against his swollen lips. “I haven’t kissed you senseless enough, it seems.”

Maxwell laughs shakily. “It’s just one. I promise.”

“About my technique, I hope?”

“Not exactly, no.” He can still recall the painful climb to wakefulness, the aching in his limbs, the giant’s thunderous roar as it beat at Cassandra’s shield. He couldn’t forget the crackle of magic above him, Dorian’s hand on his shoulder, the frustrated words drowned out by the battle. “A few weeks ago, at Emprise, that giant we fought?”

“Which one?” Dorian asks. “As I recall, there were two blighters standing between us and that ‘choice spirit’.”

“The first one.” He watches Dorian carefully. “I heard you say something, after the giant caught me with a boulder.”

“Did you?” Already he feels Dorian stiffen and back away, even if they’re only centimeters apart. His stomach sinks but he presses on, hoping that this doesn’t result in Dorian shying away from their tentative relationship. 

“I wondered about it for weeks. I thought I was just imagining things. But I asked Krem and he said I wasn’t.”

“What did you think you heard?” Dorian asks slowly, voice tense, wary.

Maxwell glances to his left and doesn’t see a single person near the alcove. He quietly says, “‘Get up. You have to get up, amatus.’ I asked Krem what it meant and he said to ask you. So, I’m asking. What does it mean?”

He waits for Dorian to say something, but the altus remains silent, staring at some book spine over his left shoulder. Dorian looks paralyzed, caught in a trap of his own making, and so Maxwell reaches out, hand cupping the side of his face and drawing his attention back. 

“Dorian?”

He sighs. “The best translation would be ‘beloved’ or ‘my love’. I suppose you could say it’s a term of endearment. It’s nothing-”

“ _Dorian._ ” 

Another sigh. “I thought I could do this. Two attractive men, attracted to each other. I told you how it works back home, all sex with no emotional attachments. Apparently I thought I could fall back to that… but I can’t. Not with you.”

Of course Dorian thought this would be like his many fleeting relationships back in Tevinter, because that’s what he knows. Maxwell's heart twists painfully at the thought, the realization that Dorian's wounds ran much deeper than they assumed.

“You never meant to say it, did you?” he asks.

“If I say it out loud, it becomes real. But if nobody else hears it, then I can keep it to myself. Simple as that.”

“But I heard you.” He leans forward and presses a kiss against Dorian’s lips, hears a soft exhale as the man closes his eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want this to mean something,” Dorian says, every word spoken like a struggle. “A foolish, selfish thing to want considering that you’re the Inquisitor, I’m a Tevinter mage, and an ancient darkspawn is out there trying to end the world. If that’s not what you’re looking for-”

“It is.” His heart might burst at the surprise and hope on Dorian’s face. “This is what I want. And if I have to save the world from Corypheus, I think I can allow for some foolishness-”

He suddenly has an armful of altus and the rest of his words being kissed out of his mouth. Dorian presses him against the shelves and dusty books, body tense and trembling all at once; he kisses fiercely, desperately, and Maxwell is soon left breathless and thrumming for more. Dorian kisses the corner of his mouth, his cheek, the scar running over his left eye, and murmurs, “Amatus,” hotly against his skin, over and over, until the meaning sinks in and takes hold.

“Amatus,” Maxwell whispers, and Dorian shudders against him.

“Maker, you’ll be the death of me,” he says hoarsely. “You - we should - your quarters, we should go-”

Maxwell kisses him deeply, thoroughly, hands raking through dark hair. When they part, Maxwell laughs rather breathlessly at how dazed, debauched, and happy Dorian looks. He leans in to say, “I have a few hours to spare,” and is rewarded with a warm, beautiful smile.

“Lead the way, _amatus._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Spun this fic out of a tweet of mine:
>
>> Like, Max asks Krem what "amatus" means and Krem is like "how would you know a Tevene word - ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
> 
> I love my main Inquisitor and his Tevinter boyfriend too much. *lies down in a ditch*


End file.
